About this Book
From Chicago to Moscow, from the Mississippi to Mt. Hood, Drew Blanchard furnishes his landscapes with stories of things people consume (“blackberry pie” and “ice buckets full of Blatz”) and the things that consume them (“absence” and “sage advice”). He creates a world that is intensely felt, where, “Words thrown like barroom bottles/ break in evening air.”

—Kathleen Rooney, Rose Metal Press

In Blanchard’s poetry, personal stories become universal stories in the same way that “two bison become an electric fence.” It feels like magic, but also breathtakingly real. Never a bird when it can be a sparrow, never a creek when it can be Trout Creek. And magic of this sort should not be missed.